A Meek Little Man
by MustardForYourHotdog
Summary: This is not at all what I usually write. Venture forth if you dare... 'I'm sorry,' he tells her... 'Don't be...' She returns flatly. 'You'll suffer for it later'.


**_W_**_**ARNING: Incomprehensible nonsense ahead. May cause temporary blindness and SEVERE twitching...  
What is this? I don't even know...**_

* * *

A Meek Little Man

The man gazes at her calmly with dark eyes. They're brown and earthy yet holding that calm. It's disgusting how calm he is, or perhaps more specifically, how he _pretends _to be calm. He's fucking terrified. She can tell by how he's standing, one foot a little behind the other and his arms aren't folded strongly across his chest but are loose, almost hanging from his shoulders. It's his default setting most of the time when she's around, almost as if he's preparing to run. She wonders if there was a time in which he didn't look at her with that forced calm but she can't recall one… Though admittedly she isn't trying very hard. He takes a deep breath and she blinks at him. He's getting old. His once jet black hair is greying, wrinkles now line his tanned face and each one has a story behind it. Most of them are stress wrinkles but then he isn't as strong as he pretends to be. A stubble scratches his face as he rubs is face with one rough hand. He forgot to shave. Must've been a little too distracted to remember to. He shakes his head slowly at her.

"You've really done it this time," He says simply and she says nothing. She hears the crack in his voice, it's obvious, he's falling apart at the seams… A little longer and that crack will spread along the dam holding back those repressed feelings and it'll break. Collapse. A flood of feelings will drown him on the spot.  
She just gazes at him, matching his stance except hers isn't shaking, it's not a front. It is calm because she is calm. She's always been calm. "I didn't want to believe it!" The man continues and his tone is almost pleading, begging her to prove him wrong. She wants to laugh at him. He's so naïve, so hopeful and where has that brought him? It's dragged him to misery's doorstep and even had the generous courtesy to knock. He stares at her then his eyes narrow and he shakes his head again. "Where did I go wrong with you?" He asks and his daughter smiles slightly.

"Nowhere… except you met my mother," She replies coolly and he winces a tad at the mention of her. Oh she would be _pleased_ at this mess here_…_ What a family they make. Sirens echo in the distance, getting closer with each passing moment and the man glances towards the school gates anxiously.

"It was a mistake bringing you here," He states as he looks back.

"Yes. It was."

He stares at her hard for one long moment and tears are glazing his eyes now. He's always had such a good heart. So vulnerable to cold, hard truths. He clenches and unclenches his hands as he tries futilely to work out some of the agitation.

"I'm sorry," He tells her softly and she frowns ever so slightly. She hadn't seen that one coming.

"Don't be," She returns flatly and she looks to the police van rolling reluctantly up the driveway, lined with paint from a First Year assault. "You'll suffer for it later," She adds. She looks back to the man who was once a strong and reliable figure and now remains a shell of his former self, nothing more than a shadow… He's barely there. The flashing lights from another police car light up their faces as it stops beside them. They just stare at each other silently as the doors to the car open and two figures climb out. Gravel crunches beneath their boots.

"Are you Mr Gordon?" One of them prompts and the man nods once. "And this is-?"

"Yes," The man cuts in as he continues to gaze at her silently. She doesn't look away from him as a hand wraps around her wrist and pulls it behind her back. Cold metal tightens around her skin. The handcuffs click and tighten. She keeps looking at the man. At the man who used to be her father and who still might be. She isn't sure. She isn't sure if she cares.

"You are hereby arrested under the suspicion of murder. You don't have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you don't…" The policeman tells her. "You're coming with us, young lady."

She doesn't protest. She doesn't look away from the man as she is led steadily towards the van with a grip secure upon her arm. She gazes at her father until the last moment where she steps into the van and takes a seat. She stares ahead. She doesn't look back to her father again. She doesn't look back to his tears or his gut wrenching misery, she just stares at nothing and wonders quietly to herself whether it bothers her or not that she's made him cry. That she finally broke the unbreakable. A police officer sits opposite her. He doesn't talk to her. He is impassive and professional. She goes back to wondering about her father as the engine roars to life. She wonders how he knew… then she smiles to herself. It didn't matter really. He just knew. He _always _knew.

Janie chuckles throatily to herself as she leans back against the cold, metal walls of the van.

That meek little man had finally got her.

…

That fucking bastard.

* * *

**_Wrote this in like... half an hour, on and off and I learnt something new today. Drum and bass makes me write angsty. Anywho, Dazzl... That songfic is twelve kinds of difficult. I'm gonna have to rethink it what I've written. A lot. It makes me very sad that I could write something so terrible... but then again, I never claimed I was any good at this so hahaha!  
... I'm done now. Review if ya wanna but you don't have to because this is just... odd._**


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